Solidarity
by Orzo
Summary: The Mandalorians threaten to upend the galaxy. The Jedi, fresh from their war with Exar Kun, cannot aid the flailing Republic.
1. Chapter 1- Brene

Brene

"The war will come to Dantooine, Master Jedi. The Republic asks only that the Council be ready for that inevitability."

Brene watched without word as the woman sat across from her master at the end of the long table. She had felt her _lekku _twitch in anticipation all throughout the officers meeting. Her master, an old Whiphid by the name of Taan shifted his cane in his hands. Brene could sense the truth in the captain's mind as she extolled various timetables, charts, and graphs to her master, but when she tried to touch the Whiphid's mind, she found only the cool serenity of her master deep in thought. What could he sense in the captain that she could not, Brene wondered. She had not felt her master throughout the entire meeting, so she could only assume he was giving the captain his full attention, a rarity, Brene noted.

"Thank you for your time in bringing this information, Captain Pott." Taan's voice was low and raspy, guttural on levels Brene could hardly comprehend. Taan had the wheezing of old flimsi; dust coated every tired word. "But Dantooine can do nothing without Coruscant in full agreement."

Brene watched Captain Pott shift stiffly in her military maroons. Her thoughts turned to the future, toward her inevitable report.

"We will do as we have always done. We are not your warriors. Tell your admiral what he has been told before: more time is needed to assess this matter."

Anger rose like a fire inside the captain, but Brene noticed she contained it well. Lashes of temper were unbecoming to command. She began to gather her materials. In a crisp waterfall of her hands, she smoothed her uniform. "Master Jedi, do not let the drawling of your council lead to more tragedies like Althir Three. The Outer Rim is not safe, not even for you Jedi."

"I believe that before this is all over, Althir Three will be a small footnote to the conflict," Taan said.

The captain stood from her seat. "This is not a conflict anymore; this is a war."

"And the Jedi have had their fill of war, Captain Pott."

"'Protectors of the galaxy' my exhaust port. I see that Admiral Nonconna was correct in his assessment that the Jedi are little more than dusty relics only fit to waste away in their monasteries."

Taan rose at the bait. Standing over two meters, the Whiphid dwarfed the petite captain. Brene closed her eyes as an outpouring of aggression welled up inside her master, then ejected in practiced meditation.

"I will not be lectured on the natures of war by a pup barely old enough to stand on her own two legs. Do they not teach of Exar Kun? It was not long ago. Do they not make clear the hatred and pain of war?" Taan's voice echoed within the meeting chamber. Augmented by the Force, Brene could see the memories in her mind that drove her master's speech. "I was there; I was at Ancrossa, saw the massacre of the Two Hundred and Eleventh. I saw the burning fleets of Crovit Prime. I watched powerlessly the annihilation of entire systems. I have seen what horrors the Force in war brings, and I will not abate a return to such barbarism. You may feel for your subordinates, Captain, but I feel for all sentients across the galaxy. I cannot recommend to the Council we throw away decades of peace for a small border skirmish."

Pott took a moment to regain herself. Brene imagined no dossier could account for the Whiphids' natural aggression, even among their few Jedi. "Then that is your final decision, Master Jedi?

"Yes, yes it is." Brene felt him calm again. His voiced lost its thunder. This matter has been discussed at length; I will not bring tired matters to the Council."

"Then you will condemn millions more to die."

"So that billions may yet experience the peace we all strive for," The Whiphid closed his eyes and relaxed once more in his chair.

"Brene." The sound of her name roused the Twi'lek from her thoughts. "Brene, please escort the Captain to her ship. We're done here, and I'm sure she has quite a glowing report to file with Coruscant."

Brene stood, letting her _lekku_ fall from her shoulders. She motioned to the captain. "This way, please."

She halted the Brene with a silent hand. "Master Jedi," he voice stuttered, and then cleared. "Thank you for your time. I will make sure to be less wasteful of it in the future."

Taan simply nodded, his heavy eyes and long face held down in thought. Brene offered the captain the door. With military fashion, she left the room, and Brene followed.

When they were sufficiently away from the chamber, Brene spoke. "I apologize, Captain, for my master's outburst in there." She caught the eyes of several of her classmates who had stopped to watch the two. Quickly, the group averted their eyes and resumed the mulling of the temple. "He's normally very stoic, even reserved."

Pott laughed. "I suppose even you Jedi have feelings then."

"Please do not think the Jedi uncaring. War affects us just as and if not more than it would you. My master has seen war, and it haunts him. He simply wishes to avoid more suffering."

"Thank you, Master Jedi, but I fail to see how purposefully removing yourselves from the war will in anyway avoid more suffering."

Brene was taken aback at being addressed as master. She understood that most sentients in the galaxy had only a passing knowledge of the Jedi, but having lived her entire life in the temple, she often found her dealings with non-Jedi filled with little idiosyncrasies she was not equipped to deal with. Rather than correcting the captain, she let the comment roll of her consciousness.

"I don't pretend to know what the Council's plans are, and if I can in any way assure you, I would. We do not wish to see the galaxy suffer."

"Admiral Nonconna spoke highly of Master Taan. I had hoped he might be more sympathetic to an old friend."

"A Jedi cannot let ties interfere with judgment, especially on matters of this severity." She felt a certain pride come into her words. "We treasure the bonds that hold sentients together, but we recognize the Force as our ultimate bond."

The pair crossed the threshold of the temple and stepped out into the lush pastoral of Dantooine; in the distance, the spaceport was abuzz with activity.

"Must be a lonely existence," Pott quipped.

Brene's _lekku _twitched. "With solidarity, all matters can be reconciled."

Pott stopped before her shuttle. With a hiss of steam and the creak of mechanics, the ramp lowered. Two marines in the red and gold stood inside the shuttle. "I didn't quite catch your name, Brene?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Well, Brene, if you or your master's Council can bottle that solidarity of yours and ship it to the soldiers who are dying in your backyard, the Republic and I would be much obliged."

She put a hand on Brene's shoulder. Brene could feel a tenderness underneath the woman's military veneer. It soothed her. "Take care of that Whiphid of yours, and when you see him next, tell him: Admiral Nonconna sends his best."

"Yes, Captain."

Pott smiled. "Good. Now get on back. I'm sure your master will breathe easier knowing I'm spacebound."

"Of course, Captain."

Brene watched as the captain walked up the ramp into the shuttle. Pott said something unitelligable over the hum of the engines coming to life to one of the soldiers, and the ramp began to close as the shuttle took the sky in the light of midday.


	2. Chapter 2- N'Chun

N'Chun

In the evening, when not pressed by Council matters, N'Chun Taan found himself in a quiet corner of the library. He would come in, night after night, say hello to Dancha, the librarian, and her Padawan Oshh. Every night, the assistant, a protocol droid with the designation B6-02 would ask if he needed anything, and always he would say no. Some masters took their wards with them for after hours studies, but now that Brene was older, Taan gave her evenings leave, provided she had completed all tasks. Tonight, she and a few others would be practicing with hardsabers in the atrium, Taan imagined. Taan never put much weight into his skill with a lightsaber. The war with Exar Kun had given him his fill of combat. Young Brene's path was less clear to him, so he encouraged her to pursue all manner of exercises and practices. While Taan's gift rested squarely in his words, perhaps one day she would be called upon to use her sword. Taan decided it was best she be prepared. The galaxy was a big place, even for a jedi.

"Especially for a Jedi," a voice from behind him said. Taan gave a low grunt, a laugh to his people, but often misinterpreted as disapproval by other sentients. The man behind him had known him long enough to spot the difference.

"You're up late, Master Galim," Taan said.

Galim pulled a chair over to the small table and glanced over the computer screen Taan had fixated himself to.

"I've only just arrived. Won't be staying more than a day, and something told me I'd find you here." Galim shook his head with a whistle. "Most sentients with a chip on their shoulder find more comfort in town at Hyrri's, brooding over something a bit stronger than military records."

Taan regarded the Ishi Tib, watched the amphibian man's eyestalks bend and retract as they scanned the library. Age graced the Ishi Tib less so than other races, but Galim wore it well.

"You've heard then?" Taan replied.

"It's not every day the Republic wishes to address a single master in person."

"These are the stiffest and driest records we have; so neat and orderly." Taan shook his head. "The Republic does not know how to tell a story."

"So that explains why the poor young captain couldn't sell you hers?"

Taan flicked through several pages, barely skimming. His old eyes glazed. "It wasn't her story; she was just a poor storyteller."

"And why would a young officer like her come halfway across the galaxy for an old Whiphid like you?" Galim asked.

"She came on behalf of an old friend. An Admiral Nonconna."

Galim whistled through the baleen of his teeth. "That old pirate, an Admiral?"

"The war left many open chairs, Galim. Too many, if you ask me."

Taan had pulled up a report of Admiral Nonconna's latest mission; aid to the Cusawis not three standard weeks ago. The reports from the Rim were troubling, there was no doubt about it, and he hated turning down Nonconna. If it had been any other officer, Taan could stand firm in his stance. But Taan had served with Nonconna on Ancrossa; it had been Nonconna's regiment that had been utterly obliterated. Thousands of men left behind their entire lives on the wound in that planet, yet Nonconna left behind only his left leg. Nonconna was not a suit in Coruscant. The man would not have appealed to him if he did not think it meant something.

"According to the latest reports," Taan began, "The Mandalorians have crossed the boundary into Trigonas space. They could be at Tul Trigona within the closing of the month."

Galim's eyestalks narrowed as he pulled up his own console at the table. "The Republic has less than amicable relation with Tul Trigona. If the Mandalorians have them scared enough to ask the Republic for aid…" He let the thought hang.

"My guess is that Nonconna's been assigned to Tul Trigona with a minimal force," Taan mused. "Until reports come back from that nightmare of bureaucracy, he could be walking into a death trap."

Galim continued to pour over his screen, each eyestalk seemingly looking at two different things. "Have you even been there, Taan?"

Taan allowed himself nostalgia. "Tul? Once or twice."

"And how did you find it?"

"Lacking."

The pair of them laughed. Several heads of more studios Jedi turned toward them, but quickly turned back. "An entire cluster ruled by an unbroken line of males stretching back a thousand years. How do they do it? Clones? Prenatal bioconstruction?"

"Luck, is my guess."

Galim rubbed a wet hand over his face to cool him down. "I never pegged you as one to believe in luck."

"Well Oma is nothing like his father from what I remember, and if Nonconna's lucky, Oma's son will be nothing like him."

A smile snaked from between the Ishi Tib's beak. "And now the depth of the knowledge comes forward. You speak with familiarity for this family."

Taan descended into his memory of the time spent on Tul Trigona. A lifetime ago, but there it was clear as day, in all it's beautiful squalor. Tul Trigona was a case study of monarchies waiting for the student undaunted enough to brave the red tape.

"I advised Oma Trigonas on matters of internal delicacy shortly after the war. Incorrigible sentient, but if he's extended talks to the Republic, perhaps something of my counsel got through to him."

"You always did have a way with words, my friend."

Taan gave a slight bow of his head in appreciation. Many sentients might respond in sarcasm, but for his entire verbal prowess, Taan felt lacking in such back talk.

Galim stood from his seat and rubbed his face again. "As much as I'd love to sit and swap war stories with you, N'Chun, this fish is not as spry as some of us in our age. Early morning meeting with the Council."

"And here I thought you'd be the second person to cross the galaxy for me today," Taan said. "What brings you to our sleepy corner of the galaxy?"

Galim grew dark and his thoughts became clouded. "I'm sorry friend, but this is for the Council only."

Taan exhaled deliberately to show his frustration. He knew if Galim couldn't tell him, he would be better off waiting for someone who could. The Ishi Tib was notoriously hard to read.

"I suppose I'll hear about it from Vrook in the meantime. Come find me before you head out. Perhaps we can go to Hyrri's instead of wasting your company with military records."

Galim shifted in his skin. Something was off, and Taan could feel it radiating off him like sweat, but the Jedi gave no indication as to what was troubling him. "Perhaps, friend. Perhaps."

Taan stood and shook Galim's hand. The slick coating of the Ishi Tib coated his chapped hand. "Always a pleasure to receive Master Galim."

Without another word, Galim turned toward the exit.

Morning found the Whiphid content in his chamber. Sunlight peeked through the window. Slowly, he willed his old bones to movement and threw on a modest tunic. He reached out through the Force, felt the planet come to life around him. In his mind, he could see Brene in her chamber, her mind an open channel deep in meditation. He had slept late, according to the chrono on the wall, and the temple around him had already woken up.

He poured himself a glass of water as he took in the new day; Galim was still on planet, but was out and about. His meeting with the Council must have been earlier than Taan thought. A small pulse of light, automated and subdued caught his attention. He checked the console near his bed. One of the droids had come by, an hour or so ago. It had not left a message. Curious, he thought. Perhaps Brene had intercepted it and took the message.

Beyond the threshold of his room, he took in the new sun. In the distance, the hum of the spaceport melded with the sounds of the rolling plains. It was a good day- a peaceful day. As he took in the morning sun, he let his mind wander deeper into Brene's. As he probed, he discovered something; she seemed troubled, as if her meditation were a response, rather than her usual exercise. He felt the connection waver as she allowed herself control; the sound of soft boots on concrete echoed throughout the temple.

"You're awake," she said. Taan detected a tiny hint of chastisement in her words- typical, he thought, for his padawan.

"Sleep found me well, little tusk. I see you have greeted the day better than me."

She glanced around, and then crossed her arms. A mixture of concern and disdain crossed her light red face. "A council droid came to find you this morning."

"So I gathered. I take it you took the message then?"

Concern turned to a dark hue of worry and she continued to scan the courtyard. "Yes, Master Taan." Her eyes darted over Taan's shoulders. "I apologize, master, the message was only for you, but the droid offered no resistance. I should have woken you."

Taan put a hand on her in comfort. Brene was a curious sentient by nature; he did not fault her for wanting to know more. "Do not fret, little tusk, there is no harm done. Just give me the message."

The Twi'lek cleared her throat. With a last scan of her surroundings, she spoke.

"They found her, Master. You've been summoned to the Council."


	3. Chapter 3- Stath

Stath

"She's coming around, Sir."

Stath threw a glance over his shoulder back towards the cargo space of his Tyriss 424. The droid was right; the woman they'd found out past Suul was slowly waking up. She hobbled up into view of the window and collapsed to her knees. She flailed softly in an attempt to surmise her location. Finding solid ground, the woman closed her eyes and drifted off. Stath put a hand to the metal cylinder at his belt; it had been the only thing of value on the woman's person when they found her. He had heard stories of the contraption in less than reputable dives in the Outer Rim, but nothing in his travels had ever proven them to be more than myth.

"A lightsaber."

The droid seated next to the pilot gave an inquisitive turn of his head. "Pardon, Sir?"

"Just talking to myself." Stath focused his attention on the dash. They weren't out of this yet. He must have traveled this route a hundred times out of Suul, but Stath had never seen debris like this. It was too large and dispersed to be a collision. Larger bits of ship floated noiselessly on all sides- definitely not a stellar incident. Pirates made their homes out in the Outer Rim, sure, but nothing so big as to make a junk nebula like this.

It was clear to Stath that this was the result of a skirmish, or even a small battle. Nothing had been reported on any frequency, domestic, trade, or otherwise. Must have been quick, Stath thought, and the winner made out pretty squarely.

"Should we notify anyone about the debris, Sir?"

Stath reclined in his chair. "No need to cause a fuss, Opher," Stath said. "If Suul picked this little party up – and they should have – then Tul will know about it and that's good enough for me."

He checked the scanners again. There was a lot of junk out here, most of it salvageable, but not the commodities he was in the market for. The girl though, the Jedi, she was interesting; they'd found her in a ruptured escape pod when the navicomputer yanked them out of hyperspace for course correct. Incredibly, she was still alive. Stath had seen spacers take plenty of beatings in his days trawling the hyperlanes, but cold vacuum was enough to clam up even the heartiest braggart in Mos Eisley. They towed the pod and recovered the woman, and damn it all if she didn't look like she'd only had a drink too many. This girl was something else. This girl was special.

"We'll give the area one more once-over then put the word out on all the usual channels. Maybe Anchon and his boys will send us a nice finder's fee."

The droid began programming the next loop. "Yes, Sir."

"Take us around, Opher. I'm going to check on our guest. Bring up the lights in the hold."

"As you wish, Sir."

The woman reacted to the lights. Instinctively she threw up a hand to shield her eyes and in her confusion, hit herself square in the forehead. Stath chuckled. He gave a mocking knock on the door to the cargo hold.

"Rise and shine, beautiful."

The woman pinched her eyes together and gave them a vigorous massage with the back of her hand. Blinking slowly, she came to consciousness and stared deep into Stath.

"Where am I?" Her voice belied her concern, and in a situation like this with an unknown and possibly magical sentient, Stath would use everything to his advantage.

"Well, you're safe, for one," he said giving her his best host's grin. "We pulled you out of a pretty gnarly wreck. If we hadn't have shown up, you'd be space meat by now.

The woman seemed to wrack her mind. Stath began to feel a cool chill, like a slow faucet's drip in the back of his mind. He shuddered, but did not let it faze him. Out on the Rim, spacers told stories of powerful sentients who could read minds and move whole starships with a single thought.

"You're on board my ship, the _Piso Dodger_, but you already knew that didn't you?"

The woman began to regain her composure. She managed to sit up with practiced grace and crossed her legs. "You're not particularly difficult to read."

"Then how about I get your name since you already know mine."

"Surik. Meetra Surik, Jedi Knight." Her voice was firm and sure, uncharacteristic to Stath of a broad just pulled from space.

Stath scratched his head. The boys back home would never believe him. "Jedi, huh? Explains this doohickey of yours. He took the lightsaber from his belt and tossed it lightly into the air. Surik's eyes widened. She reached out instinctively and the lightsaber flew towards the door, bouncing harmlessly off. Stath bent over to pick it up with a smile on his face.

"Give that back."

Stath shook his head, laughing to himself. "What? This? You want it?"

He watched her face grow stern. Her brow furrowed and her eyes darkened. "Give that back, you had no right—"

"Listen, lady, I don't know who you are, where you come from, or why in hell you were floating in a bunch of space junk, but I do know that I saved your life." He pressed his face up to the glass of the hold. "Let's not be making any demands."

The Jedi exhaled, collecting herself. Stath hoped something had gotten through to her, if it hadn't, well, it would be a long ride to Tul Trigona. "You're right," she said. "I apologize for my outburst. I don't suppose I've ever been spaced before; everything's a little fuzzy. Thank you for rescuing me."

Finally, some courtesy. "You're welcome. Now that you're not at my throat, you mind telling me why I found you left for dead in the middle of space?"

"You could start," she said curtly, "by telling me where we are."

Stath sighed; he'd never been one to take human cargo – they asked too many questions for his tastes. This woman wasn't some farmwife on her way from a raided colony, she was an exception. Might as well make an exception.

"Where are we, Opher; how're we doing?"

"Just fine sir," the droid said. "Thank you for asking. Presently we are point one-two light years from Suul Trigona."

Surik put a hand to her head and sat in thought. "Suul Trigona."

"Anything coming back yet? You were out floating in a breached pod. There's a lot of junk floating around here. Looks like some kind of battle. Know anything about that?"

She nodded. "Yes, yes. There was a battle. Battle. Mandalorians. Massacre. We never stood a chance."

Just the mere mention of Mandalorians put Stath on edge. He'd lost more than enough acquaintances to those raiders. There was talk in the spaceports about a war with the Republics. Some smugglers thought war was good for business, not Stath. He thought war put people on edge.

"Mandalorians. You're Republic then?" Stath could see concern grow in her eyes. She tried to mask it, but a life time of dealing with unsavory people had gifted Stath with a penchant for reading faces.

"Yes, we were sent out to the border of Trigonas space to keep watch on the system."

"Well it looks like you found something."

The concern continued to bloom, and, to her credit, the Jedi was doing her best to mask it, but Stath had already latched on. It made him feel cold. Something ill was lurking at the edge of his mind.

On a hunch, he called out to his copilot. "Opher, gimme a long beam scan of the area."

"What are we looking for, Sir?" the droid chimed as it began the scan.

"I don't know – anything. Something big."

"Yes, Sir."

The woman locked eyes with Stath. In his mind, he could hear the screeching of a massive ship coming full stop from hyperspace. He began to perspire.

"You feel it too?" Surik asked.

Before he could respond, the entire ship lurched to the side and an alarm began to blare. Flung from his feet, Stath crashed into a pile of crates. In a daze, he could hear Opher's incessant chatter processed at computer speeds, too quick for his muddy brain. The ship rocked a second time and Stath stumbled to his feet.

"What was that?" Surik asked, quickly burying her panic.

Stath rushed to the cockpit. The dash was on fire with lights and warning. "Proximity alarm! Something just came out of hyperspace."

"Something big, Sir." Opher added.

"Something big, yeah, damnit, make it something huge."

The ship was truly massive. Scanners pegged it safely at three-quarters of a kilometer, and it was barreling through the junk field right towards them. Stath scrambled with the controls in an attempt to avoid the monstrous, insect like ship. It began firing indiscriminately at the floating wreckage setting even more warnings and alarms off.

"Friends of yours, sweetheart?" Stath barked. A chunk of bulkhead erupted into shrapnel that pinged harmlessly of the _Piso Runner_'s shields.

"Sir, I do not think the vessel knows that we're here," Opher said.

"How do you figure?" Stath said, his stomach in his throat as he put his ship in a rapid nose dive away from the debris field.

The droid stared blankly as it calculated and extrapolated. "We are not dead yet, sir."

"Small comfort." He could hear the cargo knocking about in the back. He imagined the Jedi was having a rough trip, but it was the least of his worries at the moment. He leveled the ship and took a moment to digest the situation. "How long until we're clear of the debris field so we can make the jump to hyperspace?"

"Minutes, sir."

"Get us ready; I'm not sticking around for that ship to find us."

"Understood, sir. Do you have a destination in mind?"

He rubbed his temples. "Anywhere but here."


	4. Chapter 4- Surik

Surik

"Let me out of here!"

Meetra pounded her fists in vain against the cold steel of the cargo door. Tossed around in the pilot's frantic bid for freedom, her head was a muddled fog; dull pounding echoed in between her temples.

The pilot had sensed it too, she was sure of that. It probably saved their lives. He acted seconds before a normal man would have, thus allowing the break-neck dive to avoid the cruiser. There were no windows to look out at their aggressor in the cargo hold, but Meetra felt them ambition and the pride of each and every sentient aboard that vessel.

Mandalorians. She shuddered at the thought. The Mandalorians thus far had proven themselves worthy foes for an evenly matched engagement. Stuck here, in this flimsy freighter, there was no way to win in an out and out fight. But she had to try. That ship was surely headed to Suul. If she did not find a way to hinder its approach, that ship would be the harbinger of hellfire for the Trigonas Systems.

"Please, let me out!" She knew her words fell on deaf ears, or at least, unwilling ones. The man had no incentive to go out of his way and die for her. She was _cargo_, and she could not blame him. What did it matter to him if Suul fell? He could simply adjust his routes. And if the Trigonas Systems fell entirely? He could always deal to the Mandalorians. The prospect of being handed over the Mandalorians put fear in her heart. She calmed herself, allowed herself to breathe.

She felt the entire ship rock. Centralized, Surik knew it was not random debris; the ship had fired on them. She heard shouting from the cockpit as Stath argued with his companion. A second shock knocked her off her feet. The Mandalorians were targeting them. Surik opened her mind to the thoughts of the pilot. His mind was in turmoil, all his energy directed at the singular goal of survival. She allowed all his primal instincts to course through her, siphoning his emotions like a sieve, and in turn lending him her inner calm. She reached out through the forced, whispered into his mind.

"You need me, Stath Kherrim," she said. "You need me, and I need you. Let me out."

Stath resisted, unconsciously. Surik felt years of self-reliance fight against his growing weakness. He tried desperately to ignore the nagging doubt. The fear of death coated every though like new ice. Two more hits in close succession – they would not survive a continued assault. This was not a salvage ship.

Stath let out a roar of frustration. "Opher, let the Jedi out. Get her up here."

Surik felt the rush of the door as it slid open. The droid was humanoid, dull silver, with extensively articulated joints. It had a perfectly spherical head that looked too small for its body. It extended a cold hand. "This way, ma'am; the captain wishes to speak with you."

Gladly, she accepted the droid and got to her feet wasting no time to make it to the cockpit. She stood over Stath's shoulder and watched his furiously wrestle with the ship. On the short scanners she caught a glimpse of the ship for the first time.

"_Kyramud _class battleship," she said instinctively.

"'_Kyramud?' _The hell is that?" Stath pitched the ship into a reverse corkscrew. A torrent of turbolaser fire streaked past the viewport.

"Rear shields at twenty-two percent and failing."

Stath entered in a sequence on the dash. "Compensate. I'm not losing the hyperdrive."

The droid began to protest.

"I don't care how, Opher! Plug yourself into the shields if you think it'll help."

The droid pouted. "I hardly think that will make a difference."

The battleship adjusted for Stath's maneuver, and the next shots found their mark.

"Thirteen percent."

Stath scrambled against the inevitable. "_Kyramud_, you were saying? What is it? How do we beat it?"

"It's a Mandalorian battleship. You don't fight it, and you don't beat it."

"Good, so we're in agreement." The _Piso Runner_ lurched forward. Sirens roared throughout the ship. "There go our rear shields. If you've got any magic up your sleeve, Jedi, know would be the time to let me know."

Surik stared blankly at the approaching ship on the scanner. Half shields, no offensive presence to speak of, Surik and Stath were left with precious few options. Surik could rally a battalion, demoralize the enemy, turn the tide of battle, but she was no tactician. That was his specialty. What would _he_ do in a situation like this?

"Can your transmitter reach Drellis?"

"Drellis is on the other side of the Rim, lady. If I had time, which I don't, I could hit a long range buoy near Tul, but I can't. So no, it can't. Any other ideas?"

Surik turned to the droid. "How're out forward shields?"

The droid made a quick check. The lights in his eyes blinked. "ninety-four percent and holding, ma'am."

Stath nodded. "Good, I'm gonna throw them to the back. Opher, gimme a link."

"Sir, I."

"Just do it."

Opher hit the switch and the _Piso Runner_ came to a lurching stop. "Forward shields drained. Rear shields inoperable."

Stath howled. "What? Where are my shields? Where did they go? What did you do to them, Opher. WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SHIELDS?"

"Sir, I,"

Surik clutched down on Stath's shoulders and pointed up at the viewscreen. "Incoming!"

A second battleship erupted into realspace. The _Kyramud_-class appeared less than a kilometer from the _Piso Runner_, sending her flying backwards in the wake of rapid deceleration. The second ship did not fire, though it rested in front of them, the massive bulkhead and bridge completely dominating the viewscreen.

Stath threw his hands back in defeat. "Great. We're dead. Just great."

"No, we're not dead yet." The first battleship had ceased its assault upon the arrival of the second ship. In a moment of desperation, Surik reached out to the crew of the second ship, searching for something, anything. She touched the mind of the proudest sentient who she hoped was the captain of the vessel.

"Turn me over," Surik said.

Stath gave her a space-eating look of disbelief. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"Hail the ship. Turn me over to the Mandalorians."

Opher rapidly monitored the dash. "Sir, they're holding weapons at minimal charge. It is conceivable that they are waiting for us to make the first move."

"Doesn't sound much like Mandalorians to me." Stath said. "Maybe they want to see if we'll beg for our lives?"

Surik shook her head. She could feel a certain sensation of curiosity from the captain, even respect. "No, Mandalorians do not take kindly to begging; it's not in their nature. Your droid is correct, Captain. They are waiting for us to do something. They seem impressed that you've managed to last this long."

Surik felt a similar wave of pride rise up in Stath mixing volatile with his adrenaline. "So you say I should turn you over to them?"

"A Jedi would be a worthy prize to the Mandalorians," Surik said, hoping with all her might the captain of the Mandalorian vessel acted as he felt. "If you want to live, you need to prove your worth. They don't destroy indiscriminately."

"So how do you explain the first ship?"

"You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Comforting." He rubbed his temples. "Opher, open a channel to the Mandalorians."

"Yes, sir."

Stath looked at Surik. In his eyes she saw fear, a deep and gnawing fear. She had done this to him, and it was up to her to make it right.

"I'll be in the cargo hold. Best to make it look convincing." She paused and put a lighter hand on the man's shoulder. Her hands were warm from tension and slick with sweat. "Thank you for saving my life."

Stath said nothing. He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt.

"Channel is open, sir. They are receiving us."

"Mandalorian vessel, this is Captain Stath Kherrim of the _Piso Runner_. To whom am I speaking."

"Voice only, sir," Opher observed.

"This is Captain Torsun Voss of the _Taash Reito_." His voice was gravelly, and his basic poured from the intercoms with the fluidity of a rockslide. "We have identified this sector as a war zone. Why have you entered?"

Stath checked to see if Surik had locked herself back up. He swallowed and addressed the Mandalorian.

"Captain," he said. "I've got something that I think you're gonna like."


	5. Chapter 5- N'Chun

N'Chun

"The Republic has requested a Jedi mediator on the planet of Tul Trigona," Master Nisi said. "They wish to enter into a temporary alliance with the Republic. Admiral Nonconna of the _Stalwart _has personally requested you, Maste N'Chun."

N'Chun gave a weary look to the council before him. Vrook, Vandar, Nisi, and Lestin. He could feel the difficulty in her words, but he weathered them all the same.

"The Council is aware of your feelings regarding this conflict, and I believe I speak for the rest of the Council when I say that you are not alone in these qualms. However, the Trigonas Systems relationship has thus far been strained at best with the Republic. An opportunity of this sort, even if it has its genesis in troubling circumstances cannot be ignored."

Nisi's words were soft poetry. N'Chun touched the minds of his colleagues and found only a sense of obligation. At least Brene empathized with his feeling of embarrassment.

"And it is the Council's wish that I go even had Nonconna requested me?"

Vrook spoke up. "The matter would have gone through Coruscant, to be sure, but Dantooine is much closer to Trigonas space. Your history with the Trigonas makes you the only logical choice."

N'Chun bowed low. "I will go then and broker peace but nothing more."

"We do not expect you to do anything else, Master N'Chun," Nisi said.

"While you have been chosen based on your relationship with the Admiral Nonconna and your familiarity with the Trigonas, do not let these cloud your judgement," Master Vrook said. "I sense much unrest in the Trigonas system. The dark side is at play. No matter how small a kernel, it was erupt into its own, as it always does."

"Speak out of turn, Master Vrook does," Master Vandar said. "Difficult to see, the movement of the dark side is. A tense situation, Trigonas. Important that all talks go well, Master N'Chun. Trust you completely, this council does."

"Captain Pott, whom I believe you are already acquainted with, has not gone far," Master Nisi said. "She will be arriving this evening. You will then rendezvous with the _Stalwart_ and proceed to Tul Trigona. Naturally, Padawan Brene is welcome to accompany you."

"I am sure she will relish the opportunity to explore beyond the enclave."

"If you have no further questions, Master N'Chun, you are dismissed."

N'Chun turned to leave, hesitated, and then faced the Council once more. "What news is there of Meetra Surik?

Vrook looked uncomfortably at his fellow masters. None of them spoke, but cast silent glances down to the floor.

"Meetra Surik was killed in a skirmish with the Mandalorians near Suul Trigona," Master Vrook replied. "The battle was lost. As we speak, the Mandalorians are beginning their invasion of Trigonas space."

"Time is of the essence, Master N'Chun." Vandar said. "To the Trigonas System you must go, or risk more deaths like Padawan Surik."

"The Council knows how you grieved for Padawn Surik when she left." Vrook chided. "You must not take this loss personally. You were not responsible for her departure."

N'Chun felt guilt rise like bile in his throat. He struggled not visibly react. "Should I fail to negotiate a treaty, what then?"

"Failure to court the Trigonas systems will spell destruction for the Trigonas Systems." Vrook said. "Oma Trigonas would be a fools and a half not to accept Republic aid, especially with the Mandalorians in his own backyard."

"Perhaps you underestimate the pride of Oma Trigonas," N'Chun responded.

"They are the ones who have called on the Republic, Master N'Chun. However, should Oma be unwilling to cooperate, what happens after is not on your hands." Master Nisi laced her words with warm comfort.

"If Oma is as prideful as you make it seem, Master N'Chun," Master Lestin added, "then it is likely that he is fully aware of the stakes. One who has power is always afraid to lose it."

"And much power, Oma Trigonas wields," Vandar pondered, "Uncertain, the true role Trigonas will play in this conflict is. Always in motion, the Force. Always in motion."

N'Chun bowed. "By your leave, Masters."

"Before you go, Master N'Chun," Vandar said. N'Chun stopped and waited. For as long as he had lived and for as long as he had served the Jedi on Dantooine, Master Vandar had always been a source of knowledge and confidence.

"Yes, Master?"

"To the Trigonas Systems newly appointed Supreme Commander Revan sent young Surik. Curious, what he sees in the system. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps, simply anticipated Mandalorian advances, he did. However, with Revan, no stone left unturned ever is."

N'Chun eyed Master Lestin. With Brene as his apprentice he had developed an insight into Twi'lek body language. The master's _lekku_ betrayed him.

"You taught the boy, Master Lestin? Thoughts?"

"When I began my tutelage of the young Revan, he came to me with an insatiable desire to learn. I could hardly teach at the pace he absorbed knowledge. Once he had his mind set on something, his drive to learn all there was to know about it was remarkable. Often times I had to steer him away from sensitive material. Perhaps there is something in the Trigonas Systems that has piqued the boy's interest."

Vandar gave a nod and low, raspy sigh. "A boy, this Revan no longer is. Powerful he has become in the Force."

"Revan is no more a man as I am a child," Vrook spat. "His impatience and impetuousness will only lead the Republic further into conflict. If Revan is so smart, why then did he not heed the wisdom of the council? By running off to play General, he has opened the floodgates for Jedi across the galaxy. He has led them into ruin. What's worse is that he's made us out to be fools content to sit in our enclaves while he's out saving the galaxy."

"We all share your sentiments, Master Vrook," Master Nisi said. "But none here would argue that Revan is not powerful, and what he may lack in wisdom, he makes up for in courage and the hope he brings to the Republic. With his mind, the Republic has seen victories no one thought possible."

"And at what cost?" Vrooks temper rose with each word. "Whole enclaves have been left barren by his twisted proselytizing. With each Jedi he throws at the Mandalorians, our numbers thin. He will split this order in two before it is all over."

"If it is Revan's fate to forsake the order and remove himself from our company to further the stability of the Republic then that is his fate, but it is the fate he will have chosen." Master Nisi imposed on the old man with her words. Vrook backed down, slumping low into his chair and rubbing his forehead.

"Master N'Chun, do not let Revan or Surik impare your ability to navigate this treaty. A swift negotiation will bring peace of mind to both the Republic and to the people of the Trigonas Systems. Go now, and speak with your padawan, who has been standing with her ear to the door since you arrived."

"I will do so. I will contact you as soon as I am onboard with Captain Pott." N'Chun gave a second bow.

Vrook rose from his slump. The anger had passed and all the color had drained from his wrinkled face. "Master N'Chun," he said, "may the Force be with you."

"And may the Force be with you all," N'Chun replied.


	6. Chapter 6- Pott

Pott

The ghostly-blue image of Admiral Nonconna crossed his arms in front of Captain Pott. Don't star at the leg, she told herself, not even if it's a hologram. Nonconna's wrinkled face was twisted between disappointment and apprehension. She began to feel nervous as well.

"Admiral—"

Nonconna gave a dismissive wave of his hand. A man of few words, in her career, Pott had learned it was more important to understand what the Admiral did not say rather than what he made verbally apparent.

"We'll wait for him before we begin. It's his operation now. We will receive the _Unbowed _shortly."

"I thought you were in command of this mission, Admiral?"

"The commander has taken a personal interest in the Trigonas Systems," Nonconna said. "I can't say I'm not glad to have him around."

"What of the reports of the skirmish near Suul?" Pott asked.

"I believe that may be the catalyst for his intervention."

Minutes passed with Captain Pott standing rigid at attention. It reminded her of her academy days on Sabis, all fiery and headstrong. She met Nonconna there when he was just a commander under Captain Doserie after the war with Exar Kun. A second hologram began to flicker into existence. Pott cleared her throat and forced her back to stand even straighter. A man appeared wearing a cloak and robes over a heavily modified republic chest plate. He had a young face, with a thin scruff of beard that ran from under his nose and around his strong jaws.

"Good, you're both here."

The hologram of Admiral Nonconna gave the at ease for the captain who was relieved to relax her protesting back. "Commander Revan," Nonconna said. "

The image of Revan regarded the both of them. "Admiral, Captain, where are we in regards to Trigonas?"

"I've got three good ships waiting at the rendezvous point, Commander, the _Morning Rises, _the _Kuris,_ and myself aboard the _Stalwart_. Once Captain Pott and the Jedi arrive, we will make the final jump to Tul Trigonas. By the way, Captain, were you able to come up with a name for your new Cruiser?"

"Yes, Admiral, she's the _Solidarity_ now. _HHC-KW33_ doesn't have quite the same ring to it."

She caught a glimpse of a smile cross the Supreme Commanders face. "Excellent," Revan remarked, "and you've ensured Master Taan will be joining us?"

Nonconna deferred to Pott. "Yes, Commander," she replied. "It took a bit of nudging, but he and his apprentice will be arriving momentarily. The _Solidarity _is currently holding over Dantooine as we speak, sir."

"Good," Revan said. "There's not a Jedi in the galaxy I'd trust more to handle the negotiations than N'Chun. With his and your combined experience with this system, Admiral, I am confident we can ensure an easy and peaceful agreement."

"There is still one matter I am concerned about, Commander," Admiral Nonconna said.

"Admiral, by all means," Revan opened his arms. "I'm all ears."

"Sir, it has come to my attention that you ordered a preliminary investigation on the outskirts of the Trigonas Systems."

Revan nodded. His face belied nothing, but Pott felt honesty from him, as if the man had nothing to hide. "Three days ago I sent out a small group of frigates to patrol the border of Mandalorian and Trigonas space. Outside Suul Trigona, I believe."

"They encountered more than just a routine investigation, or so I am told."

"Admiral—" Pott said, and again she was cut off, this time by Revan.

"Let him speak, Captain. I cannot afford any misgivings on this mission." Pott felt a cool wave of relief wash over her. She gave a curt nod and was silent.

"They encountered a Mandalorian convoy."

"Commander, they encountered a forward party for a Mandalorian invasion of the Trigonas Systems."

"And beat them back, if I recall. A victory."

"At the cost of all three ships!" The Admiral's voice rose.

"A narrow victory, then."

Pott watched Nonconna seethe. "With all due respect, Commander, my men and I are prepared to die for the Republic, but if the Mandalorians are in the Trigonas Systems, we could be walking into a trap."

This time, Pott captured Revan's smile in her memory. It flashed just briefly, radiant and jovial before submerging under his gruff demeanor. "I'm counting on it, Admiral." Revan's eyes betrayed his outward bravado; even as a hologram, Pott saw the wheels and gears of the Supreme Commander's mind. Whatever he knew but did not share, she imagined that he knew what he was doing. "Captain Pott, you will inform me when Master Taan and his padawan are aboard your ship. Admiral Nonconna, report back when Captain Pott arrives at the rendezvous."

"Yes, Commander," the two officers said in unison. The image of Revan gave a salute, which they returned.

"May the Force be with you," he said and disappeared.

Pott looked to the Admiral for any direction. He gave her a stern look, unfamiliar to her. "You have your orders, Captain. I want this as clean as possible. Be ready for the Jedi. We'll be waiting."

The image of Admiral Nonconna flickered and disappeared; Captain Pott was alone on the bridge of the _Solidarity_, surrounded by her crew.

"Captain Pott, transmission from the Jedi."

She turned out, straightened her uniform, and put on her best face. "On screen, Lieutenant."

A droid pilot appeared. "Hammerhead Class Cruiser KW-33, are you ready to receive the Jedi?"

"This is Captain Pott of the _Solidarity_. We are ready to receive the Jedi." She turned to her crew. "Open the doors and lay out the mat, we've got guests.

The transport docked with the cruiser with a dull thud that reverberated throughout the bridge. As the Jedi entered onto the bridge, Pott snapped to attention. Her crew followed suit.

Master Taan took a step forward from behind his escort. "As you were, never seen a Jedi before?"

Reluctantly, the crew returned to their duties. Pott let the hum of the engines warming up fill her with comfort. Soon they would be out of this system. Master Taan stepped towards Pott. She did her best to muster a smile, halfway between gloating and apprehension. If Taan felt any irony on his being here, he was a master of calm. She had never liked Jedi; she hoped it showed.

"And you, little tusk," he said. The familiar tone put her off, "can breathe easily whenever you're ready."

Hesitantly, she allowed herself to fall to ease.

"There, that's better." He gave her a toothy smile. This was a completely different Jedi than the one back planetside. Even on her ship, he was in control. "I believe we have a mission to attend to, and a treaty to broker, if we're lucky."

"Yes, Master Jedi," Pott replied. She turned to face the emerald that was Dantooine. The ship began its ponderous turn toward empty space. "Take us out of here. Rendezvous with Admiral Nonconna."

The lieutenant locked in the coordinates. "On your command, Captain."

"Take us out of here, Lieuteant."

Stars turned to starlines as the cruiser made the jump to hyperspace.

As she watched space turn to the blue void, the padawan she met on the planet took a position next to her.

"_Solidarity_, huh?" Brene mused. "Nice name."


	7. Chapter 7- Nonconna

Nonconna

"We're clear in five, Admiral."

Admiral Nonconna stretched from his command chair. He gave the signal to raise the blast shields on the forward viewports. The blue swirl of hyperspace began its gradual shift to streaking starlines." He gave himself a moment to adjust. In his opinion, the Commander had requested a far too conservative rendezvous point. Theirs had been a long jump.

"Take us to sublight engines, Lieutenant; we don't want to startle the natives. Rapidly approaching Republic cruisers might give the wrong impression." He cleared his throat. "This is not a pleasure cruise. We've got a deal to make. Look sharp everyone; first impressions are everything."

"Transmission from the _Solidarity_. It's the Jedi, sir."

"Admiral Nonconna, this is Captain Pott. Master Taan would like to speak with you." Without waiting for a pause, the Jedi moved into the transmission. "Nonconna, I know you've always taken my advice with a grain of salt, but I need you to know that I'm serious. There's something not quite right about all of this."

Nonconna let himself sit in his chair. In his experience with the master, he found him needlessly cryptic, endemic, he had been told, of all the Jedi. Maybe war made a different Jedi. "And what tipped you off, my toothy friend, was it our new commander, or your mystical Force?"

The Whiphid clenched. "It was my padawan that brought the disturbance to my attention."

"So it's just a feeling? Nothing concrete?"

Pregnant pause: "Nothing yet, Nonconna."

"Don't get jittery on me now, Master Jedi," Nonconna said. "We'll contact you when we're clear of hyperspace. Nonconna out."

He killed the transmission. His stump ached, a memory of a war long passed and shuddered at the prospect of the war yet fought. It was worth a check, for an old friend.

"Lieutenant, are we in any position to make any conjectures as to our destination?"

The young officer simply stared impotently at her console. "You mean besides baseless conjecture?" and with a rushed addition, "Sir."

Nonconna laughed. "As I thought. Our Jedi friend is now taking warnings from green younglings. Perhaps he will heed his own council down on the planet."

"Two minute to sublight, Admiral."

"Sir," a young ensign from behind the Lieutenant spoke up. "The _Morning Rises_ is reporting a slight discrepancy in her exit vector."

Nonconna snapped up. "What do you—"

"_Kuris_ confirms. Exit vector's a no-go."

"And the _Solidarity_?"

"She's no longer with us, Admiral. She must've dropped out.

Of all the damn times not to listen to the Jedi. They must've tipped off Captain Pott.

"One minute to sublight."

"Lieutenant, drop us now. That's an order!"

"We're too close!"

"Engaging sublight in three, two…"

They were dead; they just did not know it yet.

All around him, Republic, Trigonas, and Mandalorian vessels erupted in torrents of turbolaser fire. The scanners were a mess; all communications were sporadic at best. The _Kurwis _had not responded since they dropped out of hyperspace. Admiral Nonconna assumed the worse. There was too much debris in orbit around Tul Trigonas. Any one of the floating carcasses above the system could be the _Kurwis_.

All that mattered now was survival, and Nonconna was good at that.

This was a disaster, no two ways about it. The entirety of the Trigonas Fleet was in attendance. It was impossible to tell which fleet arrived first. Nonconna gave himself a moment to analyze the battle. A quick confirmation with the star charts confirmed his suspicions; the Mandalorians jumped from Suul, right where General Suirk had encountered them, and right where Revan had expected them to strike from, eventually. Something did not add up. The Mandalorians would not risk boxing themselves in without first subduing the systems between Suul and Tul Trigonas. It was suicide. Had there been something Revan had not planned for? A change in command? A bold, new leader of this particular fleet could have gambled on a small presence and jumped right to Tul, but that would assume they knew of the details of the system.

There was no doubt in the Admiral's mind; the Mandalorians had been tipped off.

"Incoming frigate, mark two-four-five by three-eighteen, coming up fast, Admiral." Several explosions rocked the bridge of the _Stalwart_. "They're not stopping for us. Fires on decks nineteen through twenty-seven. Hull integrity of the affected area at forty-four percent."

"And out shields?"

"Forward shields holding at eighty-five percent, Admiral. Recommend subdeck airlocks on the affected region."

"Do it."

A more violent explosion sent the crew of the bridge leering. "They're not giving up, sir."

"Concentrate all fire on the nearest Mandalorian ship. We've got to clear a path for Captain Pott."

The lieutenant's eyes widened in the dim light of her console. "Which one, sir?

Two massive _Kyramud _class battleships had obliterated their way through the _Stalwart_'s hastily thrown together frigate escort and were now bearing blindly towards the cruiser. The battleships bristled with the explosions of turbolaser batteries.

"Get that frigate off our flank. Forward shields to maximum."

The _Stalwart_ weathered the frontal assault as best she could. A small blip on his tactical projection winked out of existence, signaling the end of the ambitious frigate.

"Sir, the battleships are continuing their barrage."

"They've broken off from the main engagement," Nonconna observed. "See if we can't get any support of our own."

"_Morning Rises_ is responding. She's limping, sir, but Captain Andalii says he can make it over to us."

"Tell him we need to roll out the carpet for our Jedi friends. Ensign, have we found the _Solidarity?_"

"Andalii is moving to intercept."

"Yes, sir. They're half a lightyear away and holding, waiting on our signal."

"They've got out scent, Lieutenant," Nonconna barked. "Let's give them a chase. We need to hold them off until Captain Andalii can make a screen for us. Pick your targets and fire at will; prioritize any non-Republic ship in our path. Get a message out to the _Solidarity_. It's now or never. Preferably now, if they're open to suggestions."

The _Stalwart _banked right, towards the din above the planet. "Message transmitted, Admiral. The _Solidarity _acknowledges."

"Sir, the battleships are still in pursuit." The lieutenant angled their shield to their exposed flank. As they maneuvered closer into the fray, they could not afford to keep their shields angled away from directly in front of them. Even now, some of the more adventurous Mandalorian ships began to break away from the main engagement. The combined forces of the Republic and the Trigonas seized the moment to counterattack, catching the battleships in a vice and forcing them to return to their previous engagements.

"Admiral Nonconna, this is Captain Andalii. Glad to see me?"

The sight of the smoking _Morning Rises_ filled Nonconna with a profound sadness, lumping in his throat. The wounded ship opened a hellfire on the nearest _Kyramud_, catching it blind and before it could come about. With her shields angled towards the _Stalwart_, the Mandalorian battleship was easy pickings for Andalii, and it erupted into a fiery blossom. In the chaos, Nonconna took the cover of the fireball to continue his approach towards the planet.

"Sir, unidentified vessel incoming from hypersapce," the ensign said. "Republic. _Hammerhead_ Class. It's the _Solidarity_!"

Nonconna checked the tactical readout which floated like a glowing blue chess set. The small blip of green light that was Captain Pott and the _Solidarity_ flickered into existence at the far edge of the map. Her path cleared for the most part, the _Solidarity _rocketed to take her position behind Nonconna.

"Sir, look!" one of his lieutenants shrieked. The second battleship had made it through the explosion of her mate and had concentrated the entirety of her battery on the _Morning Rises._

"Get out of there, Andalii, there's nothing more you can do," Nonconna said.

"Tracking the _Solidarity_; she's right behind us."

Andalii's voice was interspersed with fits of coughing from what Nonconna imagined to be a thick miasma of smoke pouring into the bridge. The hull of the cruiser looked like torched bantha, flames fed on the oxygen coolant systems and burned even in the vacuum of space.

"Captain Andalii, you will pull your cruiser out of this engagement and make the jump to lightspeed as soon as you're able. That's an order, Captain!"

Andalli hacked into his transmitter. "With all due respect, Admiral, but I'm not done yet." Undaunted, the battleship continued its relentless assault of the _Morning Rises_, launching volley after volley of turbolaster and torpedoes. For a moment, both ships were still. Nonconna watched the lights in the ship shut down as she lost power. The bottom fin of the bridge snapped and floated off into the void. One of the lieutenants put a hand over her mouth to hide her shock.

"Make it count, Delero," the voice of Andalii etched out. "You better make it down in one goddamn piece."

Suddenly, the entirety of the _Morning Rises_ lit up. Her systems jumpstarted, she angled towards the battleship which scrambled to reorganize her weapons. Nonconna went over the math in his head. It was bold, and the Mandalorians wouldn't be able to react. But at this distance, Andalii could make it.

"May the Force be with you, Triyo," Nonconna stood and removed his hat.

Even as he slowly chocked on the poisonous fumes rushing into the bridge, Andalli managed to laugh. "I better get a damn medal for this."

Clutching to life, the _Morning Rises_ diverted all power to her engines and rocketed toward the remaining battleship. Andalli had killed the shields to give power to the engines and the turbolasers began to rip apart the bridge.

"Come and get me you sonuva—" The transmission dissolved into worthless static and interstellar feedback, and Nonconna watched as the bridge collapsed in flames and was quickly extinguished. What remained of the _Morning Rises_ streaked inexorably towards the battleship. At the precise moment of contact, her entire remaining arsenal detonated into the already weakened shields of the Mandalorian ship. The resulting explosion painted the ink of space red and orange for an incandescent moment and consumed them both.


	8. Chapter 8- Brene

Brene

From her position on the bridge of the _Solidarity_, Brene shielded her eyes from the intense light of the collision. Panic swept across the crewmembers, and the Twi'lek tried in vain to find solace among the discord.

"The _Stalwart _is the last of our escort now," Captain Pott observed as she gripped the armrest of her command chair. "Master Jedis? Any ideas?"

Brene felt her master melding with the Force, allowing himself calm when all around him was in disarray. She emulated as best she could, however the only thing she found in her mind was the screams of the _Morning Rises _crew as she rammed into the side of the Madalorian battleship.

"The dark side of the Force shrouds this planet," Master Taan said. "We must be cautious. My padawan and I must make it to the surface. There I will find Oma and, with any luck, some answers."

"Captain," Brene asked, "why are there Republic ships in this system? I thought we were to be the only ones?"

The point defense cannons of the _Solidarity _locked on to a small Mandalorian fighter and sent it hurtling towards the planet. In front of them, Admiral Nonconna and the _Stalwart _were clearing a path of fire and metal towards the planet.

"So I was told," she replied. Brene sensed the fear in her words. She felt the guilt and the anger in the Captain's mind mixing together like a violent storm. "Before we rendezvoused with the Admiral, I was informed that Supreme Commander Revan had taken charge of this mission."

The name broke Taan out of his trance. "And you think it is Revan who is responsible for the Republic Fleet?"

"It's my best guess, Master Jedi." She stood from her chair and consulted the tactical map. "Our best estimates put the Republic strength at nearly twenty cruisers and recommended deployment frigate escorts as per standard procedure for a fleet this size. Not to mention the Trigonas ships in orbit as well."

"And the Mandalorians?" Brene threw her words to the Captain's ears with the Force in an attempt to pry anything she might be holding back.

"A fleet and a half." She switched the readout of the map to a conjecture loop. "Assuming the presence of the Republic and Trigonas fleets, the Mandalorians would have jumped from here." The map gave a galactic view of the sector. Pott pointed to a small planet near the edge of Trigonas space, on the border with the Mandalorians. "Just past Suul Trigona."

"Master, that's where General Surik's force was stationed, right?"

The Whiphid gave a low growl in assent. He walked towards the map and studied it intently, taking the control away from Pott. "Correct, little tusk. Accordinf to the Council, Surik's last coordinates were just past Suul, like you said."

"Commander Revan said that she was there on a hunch of his. Her entire fleet was destroyed, but she was able to repel the initial force."

"For all the good it's done us," Brene muttered.

"Captain, how well would you say you know Commander Revan?" Taan asked.

"Honestly, I've only just met him."

Taan nodded. "And your impression of him?"

The _Solidarity_ shook as she moved to keep pace with the _Stlawart_ as it maneuvered around an empty, floating C of a Trigonas battleship.

"He seems arrogant, headstrong, and lacking in any desire to go through proper channels." She touched her hand to her face and wiped away a strand of slick hair. "But he sounds like he knows what he's doing, and that's more than I can say about any of us, Master Jedi."

Taan smiled and scratched at his whispy beard. His heavy eyelids flickered with analysis. "You know exactly what you're doing, Captain; you're ensuring I arrive on that planet with all the limbs I left Dantooine with."

Captain Pott stood and saluted Brene's master. "Yes, Master Jedi, of course. I should focus my attention on the mission at hand."

Brene followed her master towards the back of the bridge where they could speak more freely, the crew absorbed in their duties.

"I've never much liked ships, little tusk. They make an old Jedi like me feel useless."

Brene played with her _lekku_ in childlike instinct. She always found herself touching her head-tails when she was stressed, as far back as she could remember. All she could feel from her master was overwhelming calm. She allowed herself to tap into the wellspring of inner strength that was the Force as channeled by her master, but with every rock and bellow of the ship, she found herself taken farther and farther away from the source.

"What troubles you, padawan?" Master Taan asked. His questions were always simple, though he never wanted the answer most people expected. She wanted to tell him about the screams, about her fear of dying aboard this ship, about the Mandalorians, but she knew in her heart that those did not trouble her, nor was Master Taan interested in the fears they both shared.

"The Republic ships shouldn't be here, master," she said.

He gave her a toothy grin of subdued delight. "Perhaps Revan foresaw this attack and summoned a secondary fleet to bolster the defenses?"

"And not warn us? He may have turned disobeyed the Order, but he's still a Jedi."

"A prudent observation, little tusk," N'Chun remarked. "But what do you know about Revan?"

Brene fidgeted. "Only what I've been told by the masters."

"Perhaps the, you should save your judgment until you meet the man behind the legend." N'Chun began his slow walk back towards Captain Pott. While Brene could feel the battle still raging around her, they had made it past the worst of it. Elegant Trigonas cruisers now escorted them down to the planet. "I feel that you two may meet before this is all over."

Brene delayed a moment and gathered her thoughts. The prospect of meeting such a powerful Jedi as she had been led to believe Revan was almost frightened her. Stories passed among the padawans at mealtime ranged from hero of the Jedi to nefarious traitor. Whoever he was, Brene was glad for the Republic fleet, and she could sense that same gratitude from her master, even if he did not make it apparent. "Yes, of course, Master."

The padawan found her master and Captain Pott talking with the ghostly blue image of Admiral Nonconna. Even as a hologram, Brene could see the toll this short battle was taking on the man. She reached out to the _Stalwart_ and touched the mind of the Admiral and found his thoughts clouded with doubt and anger.

"Captain Pott, you will take your cruiser and hold in the atmosphere and deploy the Jedi to the surface." His voice still held the power of a man in control. "I will remain in orbit and join up with our forces. I've made contact with Admiral Tihne, the man in command of the Republic fleet here. Assuming all goes well on my end, I will reach the bottom of this when I speak more with the man."

"Right away, sir." Pott said. She moved towards her chair and began the preparations for atmospheric entry.

"Do you know this man, Admiral Nonconna?" Master Taan asked. "Can he be trusted?"

"Admiral Tihne is a good an officer as I have ever known and twice the man. He's young for one of his position but the rank is well earned, Master Jedi. I trust him with my life."

"But can you trust him with all of our lives, Admiral?"

"Master—" Brene attempted to interject.

"I see peacetime has not dulled your survival instincts, old friend," Nonconna said. "Admiral Tihne is perhaps one of only a handful of officers in the entire galaxy I would trust my ship to."

The defensiveness of her master faltered. "And would you trust your ship with me?"

"I would, but let's hope it doesn't come to that," Nonconna said. "I remember your flying skills. I doubt your time in the monastery has given you opportunities to improve them."

"Ah, but what are Jedi but masters of improvisation?"

Nonconna allowed himself a small chuckle brought on by old memories. "You worry about improvising with Oma Trigonas, Master Jedi. Let me handle my ship. Nonconna out."

Captain Pott approached the Jedi. "We've entered into the atmosphere, Master Jedi. Shall I prep your shuttle?"

"Yes, Captain, at once."

She gave a curt bow and made the arrangements. Brene tugged on her master's cloak. "Are you really not a good pilot? You never told me that?"

He smiled. His tusks glinted in the light of the bridge. "Let's just say that you should pilot the shuttle, little tusk."


End file.
